Our Relationship Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us
by Wink Productions
Summary: Wink Productions collaboration of Willgirl and I Hart Booth brings you a a relationship fic about the Inbetween. The time in between the first kiss and the wedding we always read about. This fic is about Love in the real world. BB, Parker later.
1. Insanity Plea

**We're Baaack. Any of you tat read the 'Scarred Hearts' series know how much Willie and I love to be teamed up. So we're at it again folks. More BB fluff, angst and trials and tribulations, but dont' worry, we balance e/o out and this is gonna be a crazy cool ride. This is the first chap, hope everybody enjoys it and remember how much we love reviews guys, almost as much as we love a shirtless, syrup covered Booth... - WINK**

"He's making me crazy Angela. This is exactly why cohabitating is a bad idea. I knew it was. The last time I cohabitated was with Pete and we all know how that ended up. He got a bruised head and I got a broken tv."

Brennan followed Angela around her friend's favorite lingerie shop as she ranted her current 'situation' with her partner. When she'd called Angela telling her she needed to 'unwind' a bit, she'd had a vision of hard liquor and a loud bar. Angela had insisted on mojitos and shopping at Victoria's Secret.

"Okay, first off sweetie, stop calling it cohabitating. It makes me feel like we're monkeys in a zoo."

"Cohabitating. Shacking up. Living together. Whatever you want to call it. It doesn't change the fact that I won't be able to be a forensic anthropologist anymore." Brennan covered her face with her hands.

"Why not?" Angela asked innocently, more than a little amused by her friends dramatic and completely atypical tirade.

"Because I'm gonna kill him, Ange and they're going to have to throw me in jail!"

Angela smiled and shook her head, now that was typical. Brennan couldn't get past her sense of absolute certainly and black & white morals, even if it was to save _herself_ from jail.

---

"She's driving me completely insane!!" A perfectly calm and warm sunny day in a downtown DC park was pierced with a baritone voice filled with two parts helplessness, one part exhaustion.

Booth stopped jogging down the trail, flanked on one side by a bench and on the other by a small pond. His hands on his hips, he caught his breath. "Absolutely crazy Travis. And not in a good way."

Travis was more the 'sprint around the block after a killer' type of guy, not the 'make laps around the park for fun' kind of guy. So he was nearly certain that when Seeley called him to 'go for a run', he'd been possessed by an evil demon with a sick sense of humor who caused him to say 'yes'.

He flopped down on the bench, his shirt drenched in sweat and his chest heaving as he nodded, attempting to pay attention to his friends' ranting and still breathe normally.

"If I don't figure out something, one of us is going to end up as bones on her table." Booth finished, somewhat dejectedly. "I don't know what to do."

---

"Okay this is what you do." Angela smiled and laid a comforting hand on Brennan's and waited for her to look up. "First, you don't kill him. I mean, he's a cop, so you would definitely go down for it, and he's just too damn sexy for me to ever forgive you if you did." She grinned. "And second, you don't need to kill him, just find a way to spice things up a bit. Step outside your routine for a while."

Brennan frowned, thumbing through a stack of turquoise striped cotton panties. "I like my routines Angela. They keep my life focused. They make sure everything that needs to be done gets done."

"Yes, I realize you love your routines, Bren. But haven't you ever, done something completely…unexpected?" She smiled, lifting a red leather corset for Brennan to see and raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes, all the time." She responded defensively, snatching the garment from Angela and putting it back on the rack, "Like last week when I rearranged the furniture in the living room so that it was more functional. By how irritated he got, I'd say it was very unexpected."

"The furniture? Why?"

"Something about…his favorite chair…seeing the TV from an optimal position. I don't know." She shrugged and watched Angela as she tried to decide between the pink and the black 'rock star' camisoles.

"Sweetie, what exactly is it that he does that drives you so nuts?" She asked finally, putting back the pink.

---

Booth squirted some water into his mouth and over his head, shaking it before looking at his friend.

"You're lookin' at me?" Travis tried to laugh and choked. "Seeley-boy, I can't keep a steady relationship with a woman fer more than two weeks withou' getting a nose-bleed. And you've been living with her fer what, two months? I'm really no' the one you wanna be looking to fer advice."

"I realize that, but you know women better than anyone I know…not including me." He added, preserving his ego firmly intact.

Travis rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet, his breath back. "Oh really? Then why do I keep gettin' slapped all the time?"

"You know exactly why, Trav."

"True." He smiled, running a hand through his orange hair to push it back. "What is she doing that's making you so insane anyway? She can't be bad in the sack with a body like 'ers."

Booth rolled his eyes and glared down at him. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

---

"Take your pick! Like, in the kitchen for example," she began counting on her fingers and didn't notice Angela's eyes widening, no doubt wondering if this was going to be a room-by-room evaluation. "He drinks milk straight from the carton even though there are cups not even a foot and a half away. If he does the dishes he whistles the entire time, and there isn't even a tune."

"Wait, he willingly does the dishes? Hell, he could sing Liza Minelli for all I care if Jack would do the dishes without being asked."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Well he does the dishes but he won't take out the trash until it's nearly overflowing. If we're watching tv, he changes the channel like every two seconds. He never stays on one thing."

"It's called surfing, sweetie. Channel surfing." Angela piped up, though Brennan continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"He leaves his shoes wherever he happens to be standing when he takes them off, which is definitely never in the closet where they belong. He won't reload the toilet paper if it's out and he never puts the seat down!"

Angela smiled, examining a pair of black lace panties. "Well he's got those two in common with every other man in the world."

"Angela." She said exasperatedly.

"Sorry, go on."

Brennan took a deep breath, rubbing her temples with one hand. "He completely ignores his own desires to fulfill mine." She finished in a slightly more defeated tone.

Angela looked up and frowned, pulling her friend into one of the small alcoves of the store lined with various pink, feathery bustiers.

"Wait, do you mean…in the bedroom?"

Brennan nodded, lowering her voice to match Angela's, though unsure as to why she was doing so. "Yes, Angela. Sometimes, I want him to be first but he always makes sure it's me."

"And that's a bad thing?" Angela crossed her arms with a knowing smile.

"Yes it is. We're partner's Angela. In everything, he can't always make it about me, it's not fair."

Angela frowned slightly, not fully understanding her friend's reasoning. "Sweetie, you do realize that once he's finished, the fun is over."

Brennan's steely gaze softened a bit. "Not necessarily. He's very talented."

Angela's jaw dropped. "I don't know whether to be grossed out or jealous."

"What?" Brennan said, shrugging, "You're the one that always wants 'every dirty little detail'."

---

"C'mon, lad. Spill." Travis coaxed. Finally, with a deep sigh, Booth conceded.

"Man, it's…it's not everything. But it feels like everything. She's organized the entire the house, from cd's to videos to books to the damn spice rack. I feel like I live on Sesame Street." He began pacing, making Travis tired just looking at him.

"She listens to the TV at levels of volume that make dogs cry, she never has anything supremely important to say unless it's in the final moments of the fourth quarter of the closest football game of the century…" Travis nodded knowingly. "And if I don't do things her way, then she vows to keep her pants on until I do."

Travis winced. "Afraid thas common to all lasses Seel."

Booth nodded, slumping down beside his friend on the bench. "Yeah. I know, it's still a bitch though. And she can't sleep in worth a damn. Everyday she's up at six so she can be to the lab by seven-thirty. I swear, if I turned off the alarm one day and she missed that hour long shower she just _has_ to have, she'd murder me in my sleep."

"Really?"

"No, I guess not. She's too aggressive for that. She'd probably want to fight me to the death."

"No, I mean tha hour long shower thing."

Booth frowned as he took another sip of his water. "Yeah. No joke man, a whole 60-minute hour. I mean, what the hell is she doing in there? Washing a car?"

Travis chuckled lightly, sitting forward to put his elbows on his knees. "I don't know, lad. But I'll tell you what she could be doing in there." He paused dramatically. "Flatten her Seeley."

Booth frowned, his mind adjusting to the Irish slang his friend was undoubtedly using. When he got it, he blushed deep red and punched Travis hard in the arm.

"She's a lady, Travis."

"I've no doubt o' that. But she's yer lady, ain't she? Get yer oats, man!" Travis continued, now rubbing his sore arm.

Booth rose from his seat and put his hands on his hips, pacing thoughtfully. "You're a pig…but you're a genius pig, you know that?"

---

"Listen, Sweetie, I know all of that sucks. A lot…but it's not really all that bad. You've been living with him for two months now. There's gonna be things that you do to that get on each others nerves." Brennan and Angela had found a small, quiet bar on the way back to town and stopped in for a drink. For Angela, a very dry martini. For Brennan, scotch straight up.

Brennan looked appalled. "What could I do that would possibly annoy him?"

Angela raised her eyebrow. "I love you sweetie, but you're a pain. I guarantee that as many things that get on your nerves about him, get on his nerves about you. I mean you two spend every waking hour together, and all of your sleeping ones too. That's a lot of time with one person. You're bound to be at each other's throats at least some of the time."

"But it's not that way for you and Jack."

Angela scoffed, flipping her hair as she turned more fully to the bar, sucking down her martini. "Oh please, toenails on the bathroom floor, snores like a chainsaw, reads in bed. He drove me up the wall the first few weeks that we lived together." She saw Brennan's shoulders slump and smiled softly. "But we got through it."

Brennan looked up.

"We learned to compromise. He cuts his nails over the sink and I wear earplugs and an eye mask." She smiled. "You and Booth will find your way too. You just need to sit down and talk with him about it."

Brennan looked thoughtful, and then smiled back. "Maybe you're right, Ange."

"Of course I am."

---

"Oh and God willin', don't _talk_ about it."

"What makes you think she's going to want to talk about this?"

"Seeley. You're talkin' to me, I'd be willin' to bet ya dollars to pesos she's talking to one of her friends and that friend is, without question, a lass."

"Angela." Booth said grimly.

"Exactly. That friend is goin' to tell her, among other things, that she should talk to you about it. I mean, you've got to talk a bit about it but…don't turn it into a big production and _don't_ cry."

"Cry? I don't cry." Booth scoffed, getting up to begin jogging again, feeling he could breathe a bit easier after getting some of his worries off his chest.

"Yeah, right Seeley. You're a huge weeper."

"I am not a weeper."

"You cried at the end of Titanic."

"I…my sinuses were acting up and…it was a very well done movie."

"I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go!" Travis was laughing and missed the amused glare he was receiving from Seeley, and the arm that shot out to give him a hard shove into the pond.

"I think you let go, Trav."

---

Brennan sat, legs folded, in the middle of the queen size bed she and Booth shared. Biting her lip and filing her nails, Booth watched the frown form on her brow from the bathroom.

"You're thinking Bones." He put his toothbrush away and wiped his mouth.

She looked up and gave him a small smile. "That's kind of what I do, Booth."

He nodded as he shut off the light, making his way over to the chest of drawers so he could change into a pair of pajama pants. "Hey I, um, I talked to Travis today, we went running."

"Yeah. Me too. I talked to Angela." Brennan nodded, setting aside her nail file and stretching her legs out in front of her. "She seems to think our problems can all be solved with talking and sex."

Booth laughed and nodded as he leaned against the dresser. "Travis seems to think about the same thing."

Brennan smiled, studying the lime green M&M socks she wore, a gift from Booth.

"Hey Bones."

The hesitance in his tone made her look up. He seemed to be having a hard time holding her gaze, and the way he kept shifting his weight and crossing and uncrossing his arms over his thin white muscle shirt made it more than obvious that he was anxious.

"What is it?"

Booth took a deep breath, smiling in embarrassment at his inability to simply 'spit it out'.

"We aren't…I mean, we're not." He shrugged and looked at the floor, before re-crossing his arms once more and looking at her again. "We're okay, right?"

Brennan's heart ached a little at the question, and it showed on her face. Slowly, she rose from the bed and walked over to him.

"I mean, I know I drive you crazy sometimes and you make me want to pull my hair out…but we're okay, right?" He clasped his hands behind her back as she pressed herself against him, their faces close enough to feel the heat of one another's breath.

She smiled. "I make you want to pull your hair out?"

"Don't you think I'd look sexy bald?" He asked, playfully chasing her lips with his own, their noses caressing one another as they spoke.

She laughed and the vibration of it made his smile, just like always. "Not a chance." She kissed him hard and pulled from his embrace, her blue eyes, dark with desire, daring him to chase her beneath the covers.

And he, of course, did. But not before the thought occurred to him, that she hadn't really answered his question.

**So, what'd you think? Should Willie and I throw in the towel...or do you perhaps want more?**


	2. Spontaneous Combustion

**A/N: Sorry for the horrible delay, I was sick with the flu. Both Hart and I thank you profusely for the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter! xxWilli**

Booth heard the shower running and smiled to himself. He pulled back the covers and swung his legs around until he was sitting up. He had decided to take Travis's advice. Perhaps they were just missing a little spontaneity in their life. It happens to the best of couples.

He got up and crept towards the bathroom, being as quiet as possible on the squeaky wood floors. Peeling off his undershirt and boxers, he left them in a lump by the door and pushed it open as silently as possible. The glass doors of the shower were fogged up, as was the mirror. 'Perfect.' He thought to himself. He could partially see her voluptuous figure through the glass and when she stepped under the water, he saw his chance. Pulling open the door, he stepped inside in one quick motion, hoping to surprise her.

"Hey Ba……Ow!" Booth said, as a hand came flying at him and smacked him in the nose.

"Booth! What are you…? Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were…"Brennan started, trying to see through the warm water as it ran down her face..

"Thought I was what? An intruder getting in the shower to have sex with you?" Booth replied, clutching his nose and trying to stem the flow of blood.

"Have sex with? What?" she said, incredulously, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. "Here, sit and let me take a look."

Booth sat on the toilet seat feeling slightly uncomfortable now that he was naked and cold. Brennan, who had grabbed herself a fluffy red towel, lifted his head up and examined his nose.

"It's not broken. Just hold some Kleenex under it and keep it up in the air. The blood should stop in a few minutes."

"Thanks Bones."

"Booth, what the hell were you doing? I thought you were asleep." Her caring tone turned to chastisement as she stood up straight, her hands on her hips.

"I was just trying to be…" he stopped, seeing the quizzical yet frustrated look on her face. "You know what? Never mind."

"I'm getting dressed. Stay there." She said, grabbing her towel. "Why would you….oomph!" Booth looked over and saw her sprawled on the ground.

"Bones, are you okay?" he said, pulling the Kleenex away from his face and reaching to help her.

"I'm fine." She said, huffily. "I just tripped on these….Booth what are your clothes doing here? Why would you leave them in the middle of the floor?"

"Because I was sneaking into the bathroom." He explained, feeling sillier and more frustrated by the moment.

"Yeah, you can explain that to me as well. Actually don't. Let's just go to work." She stalked out of the bathroom.

"Great." He muttered. "Just great."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Booth rolled his eyes and waited for the laughter to stop. As if his morning hadn't been bad enough already, he really needed his best friend to laugh in his face about it.

"Travis…" he said, trying to intercede.

"No wait. Tell me the part again where your lass hit you in the nose." Travis replied, trying hard to talk through laughter, which was now catching the attention of other agents nearby.

"It's not that funny." He grumbled fixing himself a cup of the clumpy black FBI regulation coffee.

"Yes it is." Travis said, wiping the tears from his eyes. Seeing the look on his friend's face, he took a deep breath to calm down. "What possessed you to do that Seeley-boy?"

"You!" Booth replied, pointing an accusatory finger. "I was trying to be spontaneous."

"So the shower thing didn't work. Try whisking her away. Although be careful about how you whisk! You might end up with a broken leg!" Travis replied, restarting his chuckling again.

"Yeah, yeah." Booth said, leaving the break room and not-so-accidentally letting the door hit Travis as he followed behind.

"So was she mad?" Travis caught up quickly, deciding that he had probably deserved the door-in-face treatment.

"More than mad, she barely talked to me. I mean I didn't intend for her to trip on those clothes."

"Are you sure she's not a redhead?" Travis asked, now making himself comfortable in one of the chairs in Booth's office. "Cuz she's got a fine temper."

"Tell me about it." Booth replied, settling behind his desk and sipped his coffee carefully. "And now I have to fix it. Whisk her away, huh? I could do that, although I don't know why I'm still listening to advice from a nitwit like you."

"I'm gonna let that one slide since you obviously have had a rough mornin'." Travis commented, rising from the chair. "Listen Seeley, just don't sneak up behind her and you should be able to keep all your appendages in tact." Travis was unable to keep from laughing again as he ducked out the door.

Booth just glared at Travis as he left, refraining from throwing one of his tennis balls at his back. That would come later, right now, he needed a plan.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bren, are you okay?" Angela said, poking her head into Brennan's office, where the anthropologist had been hiding all morning.

"Yeah, I'm fine Ange, why do you ask?"

"It's just, you seem a little off today and…wow, that's a big bump you have on your forehead, what happened?"

"Nothing, Ange. I'd rather not talk about it." She jerked her head out of Angela's reach.

"Come on. Something's bothering you and there's definitely a story to go with that bruise. Spill." Angela said, sitting on the couch and patting the seat beside her.

"Fine." Brennan sighed, reluctantly dropping into the seat next to her. "Booth tried to surprise me in the shower today."

"Oooh, did you two go at it against the shower walls and that's why you have a big bruise?"

"No, Angela, it wasn't anything like that. I was surprised so I sort of….well I hit him."

"Hit him? I'm guessing you don't mean in the 'spanking' sense."

"No. On the nose. It's not broken or anything although he did bleed for a few minutes. I got out of the shower and went into the bedroom, but ended up tripping on the clothes he left by the door and I smacked my head on the floor."

"Wow." Angela winced, taking a closer look at the rather prominent bump on Brennan's forehead. "You two really like the adventure."

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Brennan said, crossing her arms.

Angela was silent for a moment. "You know Bren, maybe he was trying to be spontaneous."

"Spontaneous? He said that too…why would he do that?" Brennan shifted I her seat, that word had been showing up in her life far too often for her liking.

"Well, because you two have been in this little rut lately. Maybe he's just trying to mix up your routine." Angela saw the look of distaste on Brennan's face. "It's a good thing, you know."

"I like my routine, remember? We already talked about this. "

Angela sighed. "I know we talked about this, but apparently you didn't listen. Doing the same thing all the time will get boring. You need to be a little spontaneous. Loosen up. And might I add, let him do things for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you, Brennan, you won't let Booth do nice things for you. You've vetoed flowers and chocolate, and when was the last time the two of you were on an actual date?"

"We live together, why would I have to date him?"

"Because its what couples do." Angela said pointedly.

"Look, Ange, I tried your suggestion already. Clearly it's not working."

"And that suggestion would be?"

"The sex thing." Brennan replied. "We've had sex several times this week and while Booth is a skilled and adept lover, it hasn't helped anything."

"What about the other part of my suggestion?" Angela asked. "You know, the talking part?"

"Well, I…we haven't had time."

"So you've had time for sex but not for talking. C'mon sweetie." Angela rebuked, nudging her lightly in the shoulder. "Sex doesn't solve problems, talking does. You should really sit him down and talk to him about this. And try this spontaneous thing. It could be fun."

"What could be fun?" Booth asked, striding into the office.

"Nothing." Angela said secretively, getting up and moving towards the door. "Just girl stuff. Think about what I said Brennan."

She rolled her eyes and then turned her attention to Booth.

"I was wondering if you'd be up for some lunch."

"Oh, well…" she said, glancing down at her watch. "I suppose I could do that."

He smiled. "Great, let's go, I'm starving."

They walked out of the Jeffersonian, his hand on her back as usual.

"So, the diner?" she asked.

"Actually, I have a better place in mind." He said, still smiling.

They got in the car and were soon on their way. It wasn't until about 15 minutes had past that Brennan realized they were driving out of the city.

"Booth, where are we going?"

"I thought we could go for a picnic." He replied. "You know, good food, some sunshine…"

"I don't have time for a picnic, I have work to do."

"Oh come on, you can take a few hours off." He cajoled.

"A few hours !?! What do you mean a few hours? Booth, stop the car." She said suddenly.

Sighing loudly, he pulled over to the side of the road.

"What are you doing? You've been acting strange all day." She said, sounding at the end of her patience.

"I haven't been…" He started, and then realized that he probably had. "Look, I just thought we could use the break. We've both been working really hard. There aren't any new cases, so we don't have to worry about that…"

"I have other work to do, you know that right? I don't just work for the FBI, I'm actually an employee of the Jeffersonian." She snapped.

"Yes, Temperance, I know that. I was just trying to be a little…"

"A little what? Spontaneous?" she said, waving her hands around. "Booth this is more than a little. I don't have time for this. Why didn't you check with me first?"

"That sort of defeats the purpose Bones." He .

"Are you not happy?" she blurted out.

"What, Bones, of course I'm happy." He protested.

"Then why are you trying to change things?" she asked. "I don't like change."

"I know you don't. Look, let's forget it, I'll take you back to work."

She saw a slight dejected look on his face and regretted having put it there. "Booth, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, Bones. I said forget it."

The drove back to the lab in silence. When he pulled up in front, they quietly said goodbye and she got out of the car. There was a time, she remembered, when they would kiss passionately whenever he dropped her off, barely wanting to let go of each other. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Maybe she should have forgotten work for a while and gone with him. He pulled away from the curb before she could even convince herself to suggest it, so she sighed and made her way into the Jeffersonian.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She made a conscious effort to be home on time, after the disaster that was today. She had to deal with Angela questioning her all afternoon about what happened, so much so that she practically barricaded herself in her office.

Turning the key in the lock, she opened the door to find Booth sitting on the couch. It seemed unusual, because the television wasn't on and he wasn't reading either. With the sinking feeling even more prominent now than before, she slowly approached him.

"Hi." She said quietly, putting down her bag and purse and heading towards the couch.

"Hi." He replied, watching her sink down next to him. "Listen, Temperance, we need to talk."


	3. Now That We've Said Too Much

**_Hart_: Well, Willie, we're at it again.  
_willgirl4:_ YEA!  
_Hart:_ Well, I'm glad to see your enthusiasm on the subject. I too, am so freakin stoked!  
_willgirl4:_ The word stoked makes me laugh!  
_willgirl4_: But yea I'm excited too  
_Hart_: what's wrong with the word stoked? I am stoked.  
_willgirl4_: Can we tell them what happens with the big explosion?  
_Hart_: Willie!! Shhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! _makes zipped lip motion_  
_willgirl4_: Ummm...I mean...there's no explosion... and definately no angst..._Willi looks wide-eyed and innocent_  
_Hart_: hart rolls eyes and turns to address readers Pay no attention to the girl behind the login...just read the chap! Enjoy!**

For some reason, as was often the case with the pair, the talking had not lasted long. It had begun well enough in a controlled, well thought out, very un-Booth and Brennan-like volley back and forth of complaints and rationalizations. They didn't interrupt, didn't raise their voices, didn't even roll their eyes at one another for the better part of ten minutes. But the tension, not finding a relief with these usual outlets, began to build, and with it, came hostility. Then all it took was one well-timed sarcastic comment and an annoyed sigh for everything to go to hell.

"You are the most infuriating, stubborn, pain-in-the-ass, condescending, irrational woman I've ever met!" Booth thrust his finger toward her, one hand on his hip as they paced opposite sides of the coffee table.

Brennan's jaw dropped. "And you're the most pompous, pig-headed, overbearing, inconsiderate, un-evolved man _I've_ ever met!"

"Well I'm sorry life with me has been such hell for you."

"And I'm sorry I speak in sentences with more than two syllable words since that makes it hard for you to understand. Of course, except when it involves strange mythical teachings about an all-powerful super being or the existence of an imaginary fat man who brings children presents. What _are_ you going to tell Parker when he discovers you've been lying to him for his entire life?"

"Hey, at least I care enough to lie to him, we all know it would kill you to show a little compassion once in a while so why don't you just bite me, huh?" Booth shook his head, gritting his teeth hard as his temper flared and burned his blood.

"I'd rather hit you." Brennan retorted quickly, fully swept away by a rather hot temper of her own.

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us!"

"Then why don't you do it? Hit me Booth." Brennan challenged, jutting out her chin.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you? Then you'd have proof that I'm just one more brainless male looking to assert my dominance just like you always said I was."

"What the hell are you talking about? I could incapacitate you in three seconds flat, just take a shot at me and I'll show you." She raised her voice, more irritated at his sudden silence than his counterarguments. "You would do it if I was a man."

"If you were a man we wouldn't be having this conversation." Booth muttered.

"That's because two men can't hold a conversation for more than two minutes without it turning into a grunting match and an alcohol-induced brawl over whose penis is longer." Brennan crossed her arms defiantly.

"Why don't you go just menstruate?" Booth snapped, momentarily stunned that he'd managed to come up with the word on the fly like that. Brennan, however, didn't miss a beat.

"Why don't you go masturbate to a Playboy, because that the only "action" your going to see for quite some time."

"Oh, oh sure. How'd I know that was coming?" He threw his hands into the air and turned, stalking off to the bedroom.

Brennan was right behind. "What? How'd you know what was coming?"

"Nothing, Temperance. I just always knew you were more fond of dead people bones than a real live boner. Nothing a man can do for you that you can't do for yourself, right?"

"No, nothing _you_ can't do for me that I can't do for myself. And no one said anything about you being the man."

He pursed his lips as they twisted into a bitter smile, shaking his head and moving to his own side of the bed. "Wouldn't want to make that assumption would we?"

"What are you doing?"

"Going to bed Bones, contrary to popular opinion, we cavemen do prefer soft mattresses to hard rocks every once in a while." He huffed, pulling off his pants and shirt.

"No, you're taking the couch." Brennan responded vehemently.

"Like hell I am. This bed is just as much mine as it is yours." He flopped down onto it to illustrate his point, turning to his side and facing the wall. "Either deal with it or feel free to make _yourself_ comfortable on the couch. I'm sure you and Mr. Lay-Z-Boy will be very happy together since he doesn't have a mouth _or_ a penis."

Brennan pursed her lips, about to respond when she realized it was probably pointless and, while she still felt she could take him in a fight, she didn't really want to try it right then.

"Fine." She yanked off her clothes, glaring a hole into his back the whole time. She dropped down onto the bed, clicked off the lamp and jerked the covers up to her chin, turning to face the window, trying to pull as much covers away from his side of the bed as she could. It was a long time before either slept, determined not to touch the whole night through.

---

Booth woke earlier than normal the next morning; fights with Bones usually did that to him. She was still in the shower, but wouldn't be there for long. He knew part of her precious routine was to be out of the shower and getting dressed by 6:35. He rolled out of the bed and rubbed his eyes before deciding to get ready himself, using the spare bathroom down the hall.

He was knotting his tie when she emerged from the bathroom, a little startled to see he was already up and dressed, but didn't comment.

They didn't speak at all at first and studiously avoided one another's eyes, refusing even to touch if their routines required that they cross paths in the bedroom they shared. After he put on his socks and shoes she saw him slip quietly from the room and noticedthat it was barely seven. Quirking an eyebrow, she followed him to the kitchen, half dressed in only a pink lace bra and black dress pants.

"Do you have an early meeting or something?" She asked, knowing her tone was more demanding than it really needed to be.

"Nope." Was his simple answer as he fixed his coffee, apparently not caring to divulge his reason for his hasty pace. He could tell by her tone that she had her hands on her hips and turned around to see if he was right. When he looked at her for the first time that morning, he was hardly surprised to see not only her hands on her hips, but that she'd chosen to wear his favorite bra the day after she swore he wasn't going to be allowed to touch her for quite some time.

His apathetic expression put her more on the defensive than a snappy retort most likely would have and she crossed her arms stiffly, her frown deepening.

Booth saw her breasts being pushed up and together until they were nearly overflowing from that damn bra and he was convinced she was doing it just to torture him. Finding the mix of boiling anger and intense arousal flowing freely through both his heads a bit disturbing, he broke eye contact to pick up his coffee cup. He pushed his gun into his holster, shoved his badge into his waistband and picked up his suit jacket, all while being fully aware of her watchful blue eyes following his every move.

"Coffee's ready if you want some." His voice fell flat and hard against her ears as the front door shut behind him. She held her defensive stance for a moment longer and then sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. She was aware of the anger thinly veiling the hurt she felt as she realized this was the first time he'd left for work in the morning without a 'goodbye' kiss. Even as she did she felt silly for feeling that way, but couldn't seem to quell it.

With a deep breath, she threw back her shoulders and marched back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. If nothing else, she would use this pent up anger to fuel her in what would undoubtedly be a productive but very long day.

Booth stood outside the apartment door for five minutes, arguing with himself about whether or not to go back in. The rational part of him told him he didn't want to go to work for the first time without a 'goodbye' kiss, and he didn't want to leave home angry. But the emotional part of him said he was still upset, and wasn't quite ready to forgive her or himself for the things said the night before.

In the end, the emotional side won out, and he left the building, heart heavy, head hung low.

**Remember, Willie and I love you guys, so if you love us too, drop us a line! (even a very short, one word, emoticon line...) :-)**


	4. Slippery Slope

**A/N: From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for the delay in this story, it's entirely my fault! (This is Willgirl by the way). Life got in the way, I will do my best never to let it happen again! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you very much for the reviews!**

Brennan sat at her desk, her fingers idly drumming. It was eleven o'clock and she hadn't gotten a thing done all morning. It was Booth's fault entirely. If he hadn't picked a fight with her then everything would have been fine and she would be happily working away.

_He didn't pick a fight with you. _Her conscience whispered.

It was true, maybe she started it but that wasn't the point. After all, he left without a goodbye kiss right? That hurt more than the fight, she could barely remember what they were fighting about yesterday anyway. But him leaving this morning, so cold and angry, it was like a slap in the face. A look at reality.

He could leave her. She never thought that was possible before, but the look in his eyes this morning betrayed that truth. They could fight and he could leave. Her heart pounded rapidly when she thought about this.

_This is why you aren't in relationships, Temperance._

She sighed and looked at her open document once more, trying to get the right words on the page, when a knock at the door made her turn her head.

There he was, leaning against the doorframe like he belonged there, and he did, really, even though he refuted it in the beginning stages of their partnership. He flashed her a look and before she could discern it, his professional demeanour was in place.

"We have a case, Bones."

_Dear god, a case._

What the last six months had taught them was that being together did affect their work entirely. When they were happy together, it improved their working relationship. They were faster, better, almost anticipating each others moves. But when they were fighting, it all went to hell in a hand basket. They snipped at each other and got frustrated easily.

She nodded her head and stood up, grabbing her jacket and following him out the door. He walked beside her and she keenly felt the absence of his hand on her back. She didn't know what to do, was unsure how to fix this rift between them.

"What's the case about?" she asked, as they got into the car.

_There. Good idea, talk about the case. That will get you started._

"Body found in an alley behind a restaurant." Booth stated. "That's all I know."

_Silence it is then._

She looked out of the window at the passing streets and realized that she had to apologize. Yes, he was a stubborn, irritating, pain in the ass, that was no doubt and him trying to be spontaneous was really not what they needed. But she could concede that part of it was maybe her fault as well.

"Booth?" she said hesitantly. "About this morning…."

"Later, Brennan. We're at the crime scene." He said gruffly, parking the car and getting out quickly.

She blinked back the tears that stung in her eyes.

_He never calls me Brennan._

Then she took a deep breath, steeled her gaze and exited the car. It was time to work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Booth rubbed his eyes wearily and stared at his computer, hoping the report would miraculously do itself. He was now beginning to feel guilty for leaving the house with their argument unresolved.

He loved her, she knew that, but she drove him so god damn crazy sometimes. Their relationship was not what he thought it was going to be. Somehow he had bought into that perfect couple crap that Angela was selling and then became disappointed when it didn't come true.

They were different people and not just in the big ways but in the little ones too. He thought this wouldn't bother him but it did. She was stubborn, obstinate, headstrong…

_Not just her._

It was true, he did have a bit of a temper which somehow got exacerbated every time he was around her.

A knock on the door made him look up.

"Body found in the back alley of Morton's." Cullen said. "I need you and your bone lady on it right away."

"Yes sir." He grumbled.

"You and the bone lady fighting again?" Cullen smiled knowingly.

"No sir, not at all." Booth replied, grabbing his coat and making his way towards the door. The last thing he needed was to be reprimanded for his relationship. It had only been a month since he'd 'signed off' on the new added dimension of their partnership. Of course he made it perfectly clear that their personal affairs could not have any bearing on their working partnership. It did, but Cullen didn't need to know that

"Glad to hear it." Cullen replied, handing him the file.

Booth made his way to the parking garage, for once, disappointed that there was a case. He loved working on cases with Bones but when they were fighting, the situation was never a good one.

Finally making it to the Jeffersonian, he bypassed all the squints, in no mood to talk to them and went straight to her office. He took a moment and watched her work, her face getting that furrowed brow thing that happened whenever she concentrated.

_Don't deny it, you think she's hot._

That thought reminded him of the fight they had and how she had made it clear that he wouldn't be getting any for a while, and it renewed his pissed off state.

He knocked at the door.

"We have a case." He said grimly.

She nodded and got her jacket on, and they made their way out of the Jeffersonian. He wanted to reach out and touch her like he always did, but that seemed too masochistic.

After giving her the sparse details of the case in the car, he remained silent and concentrated on the driving, feeling himself get angrier and angrier as they drove.

_Why couldn't they just work this out? Why was she being like this?_

He would admit that it was partly his fault too but it still made him mad to think that she thought he was basically a caveman with a tiny penis.

"About this morning…" he heard her say as he parked next to the police car.

"Later Brennan, we're at the crime scene." He spouted off, before wrenching open the door and heading toward the scene, leaving her behind, not even realizing his slip of the tongue. He pushed back the oncoming guilt and looked down at the body.

He didn't need to be a forensic anthropologist to know what he was looking at. The body of a small child.


	5. When You Say Nothing At All

**Sorry about the delay guys, you know how life is. Sucky basically. So anyway, to make amends we present you this SUPER long chapter, written by Hart, edited by Willie. Enjoy!**

Brennan was still trying to recover her composure as she approached the crime scene, and therefore didn't notice that Booth had stopped short and nearly ran into him. Sidestepping, she looked at him, frowning slightly and began to ask something along the lines of 'what the hell?' but before she could she saw the body at her feet. 

Shivers ran across her skin. "You okay?" She asked simply, not looking up. Booth cleared his throat and shifted, pulling his paper and pen from his inside jacket pocket. 

"Yeah. Fine. Go ahead." 

With a slight nod, she stepped foreword and squatted, pulling on gloves as she scanned the body calmly. 

"Male, young. Maybe…seven or eight years of age. Clothing is in tact and doesn't appear to have been tampered with. The body was moved though." 

"How can you tell?" 

"These fractures in the limbs and lower extremities. Classic post-rigor movement. The muscles become brittle and don't give as well when jostled, causing the bones to break more easily." She sighed and sat back on her haunches. "There's still a lot of flesh, it's probably has only been here for a week or so." She glanced up at Booth, but he didn't see, still concentrating as he furiously took notes, "I can't tell much else without disturbing the scene, we'll have to have…wait a second." 

"What is it?" Booth knelt beside her and came close enough that she could smell his aftershave over the smells of human decomp. 

"It looks like a bracelet of some kind." She reached out and plucked a shiny metal object from the body, quickly slipping it into an evidence bag for Booth. The pendent on the bracelet had a red hexagon on the front and engraving on the back. 

"It's a medical alert bracelet." She surmised. "He was allergic to Penicillin it looks like. There's a phone number too." 

Booth agreed. "I'm gonna call in this information, see what they can give me." 

She nodded and stood, supervising the export of the body while Booth spoke on the phone. 

"Wait! Stop." She held out a hand and the forensics team immediately paused from wrapping the body in a black bag, looking at her with irritation crossed with expectancy. 

Brennan took her camera and snapped several photos of the back of the head, which had just been revealed as the body was moved. "Booth, come look." 

Booth came to her side and knelt, his phone at his ear. "Is that a gunshot wound?" 

Brennan nodded. "To the back of the head. Execution style." 

They exchanged a grim look, realizing the stakes had just been raised.

---

"The bracelet belonged to one: Kyle Duncan age: 8." Booth read from his phone. They stood outside his SUV, the flashing lights illuminating the alley, which was dark and ominous even at eleven in the morning. A few yards away, the coroners were loading the black body bag with it's tiny cargo into the truck. 

"At least Angela won't have to do a reconstruction. She hates cases with kids." Brennan muttered, unzipping her blue suit. 

"We all do." 

She looked over but he didn't look up and returned to reading.

"The mother Adrian Duncan is deceased, the father Jeremy put out a missing persons last week Thursday. He lives just a few blocks from here. Lets go talk to him, shall we?" 

Jeremy Duncan was, understandably devastated to hear the news about his son, and several minutes of the interview were spent with Brennan and Booth trying to console the man down far enough from hysterics so that he could answer their questions. The apartment where he lived was small; shoebox-like in fact and in the state of disrepair that places run by slumlords tend to be. But it was clean, and apparent that the man was making an effort to redeem himself, but after yet another bad breakup, he'd fallen on hard times. 

"There were beer and liquor bottles all over the place and a pile of laundry in the corner nearly as tall as the couch." Brennan stated when the two were discussing the case, somewhat heatedly, after the interview.

"His son was missing for nine days!" Booth was quick with a retort, somewhat relieved to be back in the old swing of things for a while. 

"And what about this casino he told us about? Certainly doesn't sound like a place to find suitable companions to help you get clean." 

Booth sighed. "He was doing the best he could in the situation."

"The man is obviously an inadequate father, the boy is better off without him." 

"Temperance, listen to what comes out of your mouth alright?" Booth snapped, "Nobody is better off dead, and that's exactly where Kyle Duncan is." 

Brennan realized her mistake and bit her tongue. She was once again affirmed of her belief that God did not exist, because surely if he did he would have installed a filter between her brain and her mouth. "Booth, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant." 

Booth sighed deeply, and ran a hand through his hair, bringing it down over his face to scratch his jaw. 

"Yeah, I know." He said, after a moment. "It's just this case..." 

"It's going to be hell." Brennan finished. "But we'll get him Booth. We always do." 

Her confidence inspired his own and he threw a small smile in her direction as she exited the car when he dropped her off at the Jeffersonian. When she disappeared inside, he pulled a U-turn and headed back downtown to run with the few leads the father had given them. 

"You got an appointment?" 

Booth rocked on his heels and nearly rolled his eyes. The question had come from behind a locked door above the restaurant whose alley the body had been found in. Inside it was the No Name Casino of which Jeremy Duncan was a patron. 

"If I say 'yes' will you let me in?" There was a long pause before finally the sound of at least a dozen locks being undone was heard and the door swung open to reveal a tiny casino of the Speakeasy variety. In fact, it was just a craps table, a poker table, two black jack tables and a bar. All entirely illegal Booth was sure. The smell of liquor and smoke was thick in the air and everything was lit with cheap florescent lights that made everyone look sickly beneath them.

At the moment the place was empty, save of one blackjack dealer and two hunched over bodies at the bar talking quietly. 

"I'm Federal Agent Seeley Booth," he said, introducing himself with a flash of his badge to the craps dealer. "You ever seen this man?" 

The blackjack dealer, a man of about thirty with a large scar marring the whole right side of his face, looked up from where he was shuffling cards mindlessly on the table. 

The man raised his eyebrow, "I can't talk. I'm working." 

Booth laughed humorlessly, "What a coincidence, so am I. I'm investigating the murder of an eight year old boy," he stated severely, "Now, have you ever seen this man?" 

The dealer was unfazed by Booth's words and merely motioned with is head to one of the stools at the table. 

"The boss don't like people to be in here snooping around and I got a daily quota to fill. Why don't you sit down, play a few hands. I'll see what I can remember." 

Booth tensed visibly and refused to look in the direction the man had indicated. His stomach fell and he had the distinct claustrophobic feeling one gets when they have no choice but to do something they don't want to. 

He could always haul the guy down to the HQ for questioning, but he didn't really need to be making enemies with a place he was sure would become necessary to have cooperation from later on down the line. So the question, in his mind, became what was he more afraid of, letting a child murderer go free, or a deck of cards and a green felt table?

Gritting his teeth, Booth swallowed and sat on the stool. 

"Deal me in." 

---

At 2:30 pm Booth sat at his desk, staring at his hands, which had been shaking ever since he left the casino. He'd gained a bit of valuable information, but it had come at a price. And what was worse, Booth didn't think that would be the last time he saw that place, or those cards. 

A knock at his door brought him out of his dark thoughts and he looked up. Brennan stood there wearing a tentative smile, their case file in her arms. 

"You look like you're thinking pretty hard about something." 

He shrugged and made an effort to relax. "It's nothing." He cleared his throat. "I ran a few leads, turns out Jeremy had some outstanding debt at that casino he mentioned and obviously couldn't pay up." 

"Do you think they killed the boy as some sort of…warning?" 

"No way to know right now, but it's possible. What have you got?" 

Brennan took this as her invitation and crossed his spacious office to join him on his side of the desk. Opening the file, she spread it out before them. This time it was he who noticed the smell of her perfume as she bent close, indicating where on the paper the things she was telling him were documented. But truth be told, he was having a hard time concentrating. 

"But at any rate, Hodgins says the bug activity confirms the timeline and backs up the father's story about when the missing person's report was filed. Zach and Cam and I also went over every inch of that body and the post-rigor fractures and the gunshot wound are the only visible injuries. That would seem to be the cause of death." She straightened with her hands on her hips, "At least it was quick. He didn't suffer." 

Booth glanced at her, she looked deep in thought. Those quiet, sensitive things she said sometimes about the victims were something he still was getting used to. He assumed they were the kind of things she said all the time in her head, but after they had gotten together and she'd become more comfortable with him, she would sometimes say them out loud when he was around. It filled him with a strange sort of pride that she did this, that she trusted him that much. 

With a sigh the thoughtful look was gone, replaced with all-business as she gathered up the file. 

"Well, I've got to get back to the lab. Those test results will be in soon and I have to look them over with Zach." 

She reached for her purse and then bent over, kissing him. It was quick and innocent, done out of habit, but it snapped something in Booth. She pulled away, slightly awkward at what she'd done. They'd fallen into an old groove after beginning the case and she was very unsure as to which side of the 'fighting' or 'not fighting' fence they stood on. It had just been pushed aside for a while. 

She turned to leave, muttered some excuse and something that sounded like an apology when Booth suddenly reached out and caught her hand, pulling her back to him with such force that she lost her balance and fell into his lap. He took both hands and slid them into her hair on either side of her head, pulling her lips to his, rough with desperation. He kissed her for several long seconds, unwilling to let her go. 

When she finally pulled back she was short of breath. "What was that for?" 

He let his hands drop to hers and they leaned their foreheads against one another. "I just don't want to fight anymore." 

"Me either," she responded quickly, she hated it when they fought. Arguments and stimulating debates were one thing, fighting was completely different and decidedly more unpleasant. But she also knew they should talk about why they fought, and almost said so. 

"I still love you, you know, Bones." 

And that was it. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else because he'd called her Bones. And that made her think that maybe everything else would just sort itself out. 

"Love you too." She whispered back. With a smile, she stood and gathered her things, which had ended up abandoned on the floor once more. On her way out of the office, she exchanged greetings with Travis whom she passed coming in. 

"I see all is well in your Utopian lit'l world." He teased, settling himself in a chair in front of Booth's desk, "me and the whole Bullpen in fact." 

Booth looked up and could see a few cheeky agents giving him thumbs up or making kissy faces from beyond his glass wall on the far end of the office. He rolled his eyes. 

"What? You guys don't have enough of your own business, you've got to be minding mine?" he grumbled, shuffling papers on his desk to keep his hands busy. 

"Eh, juss call it an un'ealthy pastime." Travis shrugged. 

"You've got a lot of those don't you?" 

"Well, we're in a wee bit o' a snit today aren't we?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at the sharp tone of Booth's words, "It can't be trouble in Paradise, can et? I mean, if what I juss saw is trouble, I'd love to know what et's like when yer on good terms." 

Booth leaned far back in his chair and ran both hands across his face. The lack of response troubled Travis and he sat forward.

"_Is_ there trouble in Paradise, Seeley-boy?" 

Booth sighed, shaking his head, "Not Paradise, Trav. Nowhere near in fact." He shrugged, staring off into space, "It's just…hard." 

"Well of course it is, if relationships were all pansies and unicorns everybody would do it. But they're not, et takes effort lad, I thought you knew that." 

"I do know I just…I thought it would be different with Bones." 

"Well, don'." Travis was looking at him like he was deranged and it was starting to irritate him, "You're only kiddin' yerself if you think your stubborn arse and her stubborn arse in a relationship are going to make for smooth sailin'. That juss won't be the way of it Seeley. It's going to take lots of work." He sat forward, frowning with his elbows on his knees. "So what brought on this little tizzy anyway?" 

Booth shrugged. "I don't remember honestly. I think we just…got on each others last nerve and we had a fight last night. We hardly spoke this morning. That kiss, that you just saw? That was the first today."

Travis nodded, "So what brought on the liplock then?"

Booth shifted uncomfortably in his chair, they were venturing dangerously close to two subjects he didn't really want to discuss, his feelings and his gambling.

"I just…we, with this case." He shrugged and averted his eyes. When Travis dipped his head to capture his gaze, he knew he was caught. 

"This case, you say, what is it about?" 

"An eight year old boy was murdered." 

"I see. Any leads so far?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible. 

Booth set his jaw, frowning hard at the floor and refusing to talk. 

"Seeley…what did you do?" 

"What makes you think…" his eyes flew up to Travis' but the man could read him like a book and he knew it. He cut off his own protest and sighed, returning to his origin position of head-in-hands. "A casino, alright? The vic's father has ties to this cruddy little casino and the only way I could get any information was to play a few hands."

"Oh bollocks. Seeley, how daft are ya'?" 

"I know, I know." Booth said half heartedly, knowing he deserved the brow-beating he was about to receive.

"What? Didn't learn your lesson well enough last time? You feel you've got to have another go at gamblin' away your life's savin's?" 

"Look it was two hands, okay? It's not like I made an all night trip to Atlantic city. I'm trying to catch a murderer here." 

Travis' glare went unchanged and he pursed his lips. "Well how 'bout you catch up to reality and hold onto et with both hands, eh? Don't play with fire Seeley, you will get burned." 

He stood and started to leave, but stopped just short of the door, "And I'd put in a call to that genius sponsor of yers, if I were you. Don't be an eijit Seeley, that lass is the best thing that's ever happened to you. Don't go and screw it up."

Booth closed his eyes when Travis left, and sighed. His friend was a self-centered, juvenile bastard. So why was he always right?

---

Brennan entered Angela's office at a quarter past five when the artist was still working studiously on a drawing of an Incan mummy for an exhibit. 

Dropping into the seat opposite her desk, Brennan was a picture of discontentment. 

Pulling her ipod headphones from her ears, Angela sat forward in her chair. 

"Everything okay?" 

Brennan frowned and then shook her head. "Booth and I had a fight." 

"Oh."

"And then we made up." 

"Well, that's good…"

"Not really. We didn't actually talk or do anything. We were angry last night. We said some pretty mean things to one another, we were still mad this morning and then we got this case and…everything else just sort of got pushed to the side. I went to give him an update on the case at his office and out of nowhere he kisses me and just says 'I don't want to fight anymore' and then we aren't fighting. I mean no resolution, no finding out what happened so we can easily resolve it next time. Nothing." 

Brennan was out of breath and uncharacteristically near tears by the time she was done and the artist gave her a serious look. 

"Six-thirty, my apartment. I'll bring the wine." 

The deadpan delivery made Brennan laugh and it made her feel a little better. 

"Thanks Ange."

Angela winked and Brennan got up and left the office. 

A little over an hour later, after Brennan was trudging up the stairs to Angela's apartment, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. 

"Come on in, Bren, the door's open." She heard Angela call when she knocked, so she let herself in. The smallest of smiles made it's way to her face when she saw the coffee table in front of the plush, vintage orange couch was nearly full with a box of Kleenex, two wine glasses, a pint of Cherry Garcia Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream and two spoons. 

"Hey you, come on in." Angela smiled, emerging from the kitchen with a freshly uncorked bottle of red wine, Brennan's favorite year. 

"Ange, you do realize we didn't break up or anything. You didn't have to go through all this trouble." She protested in a way that made it seem like she probably was glad her friend had took such time and effort. She dropped her things at the door and joined Angela on the couch.

"Who said it was any trouble?" Angela poured herself and Brennan a glass of wine. She sat Indian style on the couch, her red leggings peaking out from beneath a comfy purple cotton dress, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. 

Brennan again gave her the 'you shouldn't have but I'm glad you did' smile, and took a long sip of her wine. She frowned as she kicked off her shoes and relaxed into the surprisingly cozy cushions, she had no idea where to start. 

"Relax, Sweetie." Angela said, reading her mind, "You called this meeting, you decide when to start." 

Brennan nodded, returning to sipping her wine thoughtfully. After a moment of exhausting churning in her mind, she sighed. 

"What?" Angela looked up from painting her nails an iridescent shade of blue. 

"I'm not sure…it's just so calming, not having men around for a while." 

Angela's smile broadened. "It's supposed to be. You know, sometimes I think lesbians have totally got it right. I find it hard to believe they deal with dirty socks on the bedroom floor." 

"You'd be surprised." Brennan muttered. 

Angela's eyebrows flew to her hairline and she nearly choked. "You!" 

Brennan shrugged self-consciously. "I'm a scientist, it was college, I was…experimenting." she responded, as if that explained it all. 

"Brennan! How could you keep this from me?" Angela unfolded herself and scooted closer, looking like a kid in a candy store, "you're going to give me details right? Please?" 

"You never gave me details about yours." Brennan accused half-heartedly.

"Oh, Sweetie, _you_ never asked." 

Brennan rolled her eyes, but took the bait. Before long the ice cream was gone, along with half the wine and she was laughing until she had tears rolling from her eyes.

"Oh my God, Temperance Brennan you are a _tease_! Does Booth know about any of this?" 

"No way, I can only imagine what my by-the-book devout-catholic boyfriend would think of this." She said, rolling her eyes, her smile faltering just a little, "Like we need one more thing to fight about." 

Sensing the mood had changed, Angela set aside her glass and leaned her head on her head, propped up on the back of the couch. 

"So how are things with you guys anyway?" 

Brennan sighed, studying intently the swirling patterns of wine in her glass. "We had a fight last night. I don't remember what started it, just everything I guess. Everything that had been annoying us up until that point sort of…blew up en mass like…Mt. St. Helens all over again." She let her head drop back and spoke to the ceiling, "Then today we weren't speaking, he left the apartment without a kiss 'goodbye' which, well it bothered me more than I thought it would." 

"Yeah, you should never leave the house angry, especially not with jobs like yours. You're in the line of fire way to often…anything could happen." 

Brennan's insides seized at this thought and she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her before. She'd realized earlier that Booth could leave her, but she hadn't imagined it could be in more than one way. She took a shaky breath. "I know. I understand that now. I guess that's why I was so eager for the fight to be over, even if nothing was resolved. I just…I don't like it when we're mad at each other. I thought…I thought it would be different with Booth. Easier." She shook her head and blinked her blurry eyes, "It supposed to be easy this time Ange. I mean, weren't you the one who always said we were perfect for each other? This…this doesn't feel perfect for me. Not by a long shot." 

Her chin trembled so she sat up, busying herself with putting down her glass and wiping at her eyes, ashamed of the tears that had collected there. 

Angela's face changed from sympathetic to distressed. "Oh, God, Sweetie, that was just talk. I…I was joking; I wanted you to get with Booth. I didn't mean for you to take me literally. Nothing is perfect, nobody. I'm sorry if what I said gave you false expectations." 

Brennan licked her lips but didn't look up. "It's not your fault Ange. I'm a big girl. I should have known…perfection is…irrational. It's a fairy tale." 

"Just because it's hard doesn't mean you can't have a happy ending." 

Brennan looked up, skepticism written on her face and Angela reached for her hand. 

"I mean it. Booth cares deeply for you, and you for him. Talk to each other and don't give up. Do that, and this time _will_ be different." 

Brennan took a deep breath and let it out slow, afraid to ask for the promise that what she said was true. Afraid that it would make her best friend a liar. Instead she leaned imperceptibly forward and Angela welcomed her into the hug she was wordlessly asking for. 

---

When the taxi dropped her off it was almost eleven o'clock. She'd set down her keys and purse inside with care, knowing Booth's overdeveloped senses would kick in at even the slightest noise and she didn't want to wake him. She assumed he'd be asleep by then, she'd called and told him she would be going over to Angela's for a while and not to wait up. He tended to sleep more when they had difficult cases and she'd expected him to be in bed a little after nine. 

That was why she found it so odd that she could hear his voice coming softly from the spare bedroom at that hour. It sounded like he was talking to someone. 

"No, I don't want her to know." He was talking quietly so she leaned closer to the door, trying to hear better. 

"I know but she just…she wouldn't…I just don't want to." 

Who was he talking to? Or, better question, who was he talking about? 

"No, I told you I'll be fine…I'll just, I'll try and find one tomorrow, okay? I'll figure it out somehow…Look, can I call you tomorrow?" 

She frowned and a small part of her, deep inside where she didn't like to wait for evidence, panicked. 

He said goodbye and she gasped. Not wanting him to know she'd been listening, she rushed down the hall to the bedroom and began taking off her clothes. 

A few minutes later Booth entered, she could hear him breathing in the doorway. 

"How long have you been here?" 

Of course, he knew how long she'd been there, he'd heard her come in. That was why he cut the call short with his sponsor. Greg had been thoroughly pissed to hear that he'd been gambling that day after doing so well for so long, but after being pissed he'd been supportive enough, asking him what had led to his relapse, trying to help him get back to an equilibrium of some kind. He also suggested some other outlets for the stress Booth said was part of his problem, one of which being to talk to his 'partner' about his difficulty and all but ordering him to find a meeting to attend ASAP. 

The second issue Booth had had no trouble with, the first was staring him in the face now, with wide blue eyes like she'd been caught red handed. Doing what, he didn't know. 

"I, um, I just got back. I thought, you'd be in bed. By now." She told him haltingly. At least it wasn't a lie. She wanted to congratulate herself on this, but it didn't seem worth it. 

Booth, who was too tired to worry about whether or not she'd heard him, rubbed his face and shuffled to the bed. Pulling off his undershirt and sweatpants, he sat down heavily, his head in his hands. 

Brennan finished changing and watched him from the closet doorway. The room was dark, none of the lights were on, but the misery in his posture was obvious. So she decided to forget it all for the night. The fight, the make-up, the case, the talking. All of it. 

She crawled across the bed toward him and wordlessly pulled him under the covers with her. She laid down and wrapped her arms around him, he sighed and kissed her hair, squeezing her gently. 

Perhaps the words could wait, at least for one more night. 


	6. Brennan the Babysitter

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Sorry for the delay and thank you so much for the reviews. Hart and I appreciate them a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

The next day wasn't any better than the last. Parker was supposed to be coming in the afternoon because Rebecca had a conference. Booth had taken the afternoon off work but had just found out about a last minute meeting with the Director and now couldn't take it off.

"So you want me to take care of Parker?" she asked, hands on her hips, standing in the doorway of their bathroom. Her mind ran through all the things she had to do today and she sighed. She loved Parker but…

"Please, Temperance, I won't be long." Booth sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Just keep him here for a couple of hours, let him play, watch tv, whatever. I'll be back as soon as I can. You can afford to take one afternoon off right? You work like crazy."

He didn't mean for that last part to come out harsh, but it did. One of their sticking points in the relationship was about how much she worked.

"Fine." She replied. "I can do it." She turned into the bathroom to finish getting ready for work.

As she put on her makeup, she felt an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. In the six months that she and Booth had been dating, this was the first time she'd really been alone with Parker. And while Booth told her that she was doing good with him, she always had a feeling of inadequacy when he was around.

She barely knew what to say half the time, the other half had to be translated by Booth. Looking in the mirror, she sighed. She wasn't going to get anything done today.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her fears were confirmed four hours later when she opened the door and came face to face with Parker and Rebecca.

"Dr. Brennan." Rebecca said. "Is Seeley here?"

"He had a meeting." She replied awkwardly.

"Oh. Well I'm sure you two will have fun." Rebecca said with a warm smile and handed her Parker's backpack.

Brennan nodded. She wished she had as much faith in herself as Rebecca seemed to have in her.

"You be good for Dr. Brennan, okay?" Rebecca said, kneeling down and giving Parker a hug. Parker nodded in return and planted a kiss on his mom's cheek.

"Hi Tempe." Parker said, skipping into the living room.

"Hi Parker." She nervously replied. "Your dad will be back soon, but in the meantime we can play something." The words felt awkward when she said them aloud.

"Like what?" Parker asked, flopping down on the couch.

"Umm…" she frowned as she tried to think of something, setting his backpack by the door. "Why don't you get a game from your room?"

"No I don't want to." He replied.

"We could read a book?" she suggested, still standing near the door, as if she was afraid to approach him.

Parker shook his head 'no'.

She thought again about the things that they did together, mentally berating herself for not having thought about this earlier when she had the chance. They couldn't go to the zoo or play in the park, the drizzly rain outside prevented that.

"I'm bored." Parker said, and dramatically dropped his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling and apparently trying to touch his nose with his tongue.

"What do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Your dad said you could watch a movie. Do you want to do that?" _'Please say yes.' _She thought to herself. _'Please.'_

"Okay."

Parker went over to the cabinet and pulled out the Madagascar dvd. She put it in and sat down on the couch leaving a good deal of space between them. About fifteen minutes into the movie, she realized she could probably get more work done then she originally thought.

"Be right back." She said.

He nodded, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

She headed into the kitchen, where her laptop was. Booting it up, she opened her latest chapter and began to work. Soon she was immersed in her chapter, trying to get as much done as possible. Her editor was really bothering her to complete it, and lately she hadn't had much time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Booth fiddled with his pen as he tried to concentrate. He couldn't help but think of Brennan and Parker back at home. Sure, he believed that Brennan could take care of him, if he had any doubts, he wouldn't have left her alone with him. But at the same time, his girlfriend wasn't the most kid friendly. And while he hoped she would take to parenthood like a duck to water, she still seemed rather awkward around Parker, and he had to admit the boy could be a handful from time to time.

'They're fine.' He thought to himself. 'Just fine.'

He got pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a throat clearing. He looked up to see his boss staring at him.

"Sorry, sir…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She sat typing away, half listening to the tv in the living room. Parker had been pretty quiet once she'd given him a snack and some juice and she had managed to get half of her chapter done. The trouble was, she was basing her story on a recent case and she couldn't remember the specific details required to give the feeling of authenticity she so prided herself on.

A loud crash came from the living room and she was up on her feet.

"Parker." She shouted, running in.

The little boy stood in front of the bookcase, a shattered mess on the floor in front of him.

Her heart was hammering, she was terrified something was wrong with him but after looking him over, it appeared he was alright.

"Are you okay?" she asked, taking him by the shoulders and moving him out of the mess at their feet.

He nodded sadly, eyes glued to the floor.

Her eyes then turned to the mess on the floor and her heart lurched. It was a earthenware mask she had received during one of her trips to Ethiopia. It was hand carved by the village elder and was completely unique. It was one of her favourite pieces.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bones." Parker said plaintively.

"What were you doing?" she asked, crossing her arms and standing straight.

"I just wanted to see…." He trailed off.

"Did your dad and I not tell you that you aren't allowed to touch anything on the bookshelf?" she asked, her voice rising. She couldn't help but be angry. The terror she felt for Parker's safety had caught up with her.

"I'm sorry." He said, pouting a little.

"I can't replace that. It's…you…" She shut her eyes and counted to five. When she opened her eyes, she saw tears streaming down his face.

Resisting the urge to shut her eyes again, she took a deep breath and knelt down in front of him.

"Don't cry." She said, reaching out to pat his shoulder awkwardly. "Don't cry, it's okay."

Her wish that this would make him stop crying did not come true as he just began to wail harder.

"Please, it's okay, it doesn't matter…" she babbled. She went to her knees and reached over to push the curls out of his eyes. "Please, Parker…"

He hiccupped and let out a gulping sob.

"Why don't we play something else?" she said panicking as she racked her brain of things they could do that would allow her to continue her work. She needed to get this chapter done today and most of the research she needed was at the lab…That was it! She could take him to the lab, let him play with Hodgins and his bugs and she could finish her chapter.

"How about we go to the lab?" she asked, hoping that he would agree.

"Really?" he asked, the tears beginning to cease.

"Really." She replied, sighing internally.

Five minutes later, she had packed up her laptop and got Parker's coat on and they made their way to the lab. She was exhausted already.

'This is why I shouldn't have children.' She thought as she drove along the streets of D.C.

Although Booth had insisted that he was fine with just Parker, somehow she knew that part of him, even if it was just a tiny bit, wasn't. He was a good dad, of course he wanted more children. And look at her, she couldn't even take care of one five year old for an hour.

She dreaded the day he would see how bad she was with Parker, realize he wanted a woman he could have more children with and decide to leave her. No matter how much she tried to push the thought away, it seemed inevitable.


	7. Mother of the Year

**Hmm...is it just me or are we always apologizing for the delay? Well I'm turning over a new leaf...no more apologizing! We're gonna be delayed and you're gonna like it...Okay, so maybe I should lay of the sugar…and the angry pills…much luv!! :)**

* * *

Writing was something Brennan had been tempted to try and give up many times growing up. The way writing could so completely consume her, so that she didn't even think of eating for hours on end, used to bother her. Her love and tendency toward writing was one of the few things in her life she couldn't control, and it both attracted and repelled her from the craft.

Times like this were part of the reason writing was such a love/hate for her. From the moment she'd sat down at her computer, after dropping Parker off with Hodgins who, thankfully, had no problem entertaining the boy for a while, she hadn't stopped in tapping at her keys even long enough to look up from her screen.

It was in this trancelike state that Zach Addy found her, spotting her through the barely ajar office door.

"Dr. Brennan, I wasn't expecting to see you anymore today," he said, surprised expression matching his tone.

It took a moment but Brennan did finally look up at him. "What? Oh, yes, I had to watch Parker this afternoon but I needed something from the lab."

"Actually I'm glad you're here. I've found some interesting fractures on some of the bones of the remains."

"Whose remains?"

"Your murder victim? What I see on the x-rays almost look like occupational stress markers."

"OSMs? On an eight year old?" Brennan frowned and rose from her seat, reaching for her blue lab coat near the door, "Okay, why don't you show me what you've got."

Brennan pulled back her hair and followed Zach to the platform.

* * *

"What's this?" Parker asked curiously, peering at a pinned bug behind a pane of glass in Hodgins' office.

"A beetle." Hodgins muttered.

"No, what's it's _real_ name?"

"Oh, um," He rubbed his eyes and took a closer look at the insect the boy indicated, "Anoplophora glabripennis."

"And this?"

He looked up from his computer slowly. He honestly liked Parker, but he really _really_ had to get done with this report that was due _yesterday_. "Pachydiplax longipennis."

"And-"

"Tell you what, Park. You look at this book while I finish my paperwork, and then I'll tell you everything you want to know about _any_ bug you like."

Parker shrugged and took the book over to Hodgins' couch. He flipped through it for a few minutes lingering on the large photos of ants and spiders, but was quickly bored. He looked up and saw Dr. Hodgins typing furiously on his computer. He'd been excited about coming to the lab, and was disappointed when he'd been stuck in an office for the entire time. Now he saw his chance, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he left the office, determined to do a little exploring.

Hodgins clicked 'save' and then clapped his hands triumphantly. "Ok, Parker I'm done…Parker?" He looked around the room, but didn't see the boy in question. The sound of the security alarm on the platform going off sent him careening out of the office.

* * *

"You're right Zach, these marks on the joints and extremities are unusual in a child of this age, but not altogether inexplicable." She paused her tape recorder and looked at Zach, "They look to me like athletic injuries…soccer maybe."

Zach stepped around Angela, who was perched on a stool at the end of the table reconstructing the decomposed face for their files, and bent low and squinted. "That seems like a lot of old fracturing for a soccer league an 8 year old would be in. What about abuse?"

Brennan nodded. "That's also a possibility. Why don't you take some x-rays for me, and I'll take them with me the next time Booth and I go to talk to the victim's father. I'll see what I can find out."

Zach moved to begin this task, when both scientists were startled by the sound of a voice from behind.

"Bones I'm bored again, can we…" Parker was taking the stairs two at a time, casually approaching Brennan on the platform.

"Parker don't!" Her words were cut off by the deafening noise of the security alarm as he tripped it on the top step. Rushing past him, she swiped her own card to stop the alarm, not wanting the noise would scare him.

With a deep breath she turned around, intending to quickly escort Parker off the platform and then read him the riot act for leaving Hodgins.

Parker was standing stone still, three feet from her exam table, and right at his eye level, were the remains of a badly decomposed body hardly larger than his own. Parker's eyes grew wide and the color rushed from his face, he couldn't look away. The smell was like nothing he'd ever experienced, but the sight of it was more than he could take. It looked vaguely like something he should recognize, but at the same time, like a monster from a movie his parents would never let him see. His stomach started to churn uncomfortably.

Angela, seeing that Brennan had froze, stood quickly and tried to turn him away.

"Don't look at that sweetie, let's just get…"

Before she could finish her sentence Parker doubled over and vomited up the grilled cheese and milk Brennan had made him an hour earlier.

Springing back to life, Brennan stepped past him, moving all the tools and remains she could reach further away. "I need a Biomatter Containment Crew on the platform right now!"

The lab suddenly sprung into action, scaring the boy further when he was quickly ushered down the steps and away from the remains. Brennan heard Parker crying over the noise and commotion and turned to try and find him. She spotted him a few yards away with Angela who was desperately trying to calm him down.

"Oh no." She said to herself, when she saw how clearly distraught the little boy was. But before she could even take a step in their direction, a deep, angry, familiar voice bellowed throughout the lab and everyone looked up.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

* * *

Booth could tell something was wrong as soon as he walked into the Jeffersonian. The normally peaceful and quiet Fortress of Science was bustling with noise before he even got to the Medico-Legal lab doors. A few skittish techs rushed past him and he noticed the security guards standing away from their station and peeking inside. His first thought was that Hodgins and Zach had managed to blow something up, which would have ordinarily been somewhat comical. But in his left pocket was the note Brennan had left him at the apartment that said she'd taken Parker to the lab, and the last thing Booth wanted was to have his five-year-old hanging out with Tweedledee and Tweedledum when they had C4 and too much time on their hands.

His bad feeling got worse when he finally got to the lab and saw that all hell had broke loose. At first he couldn't distinguish one blue lab coat from another, and all the rushing and yelling were distracting at best. But his hearing, made sensitive not through army training but through fatherhood, caught hold of the sound of Parker's wailing almost immediately. His eyes darted around, his heartbeat speeding up, as he tried to locate his son in the chaos. A couple of guys in white, plastic suits crossed his path and then he saw him. Angela was kneeing in front of a nearly hysterical Parker trying to soothe him, but failing.

Worried, he yelled a little louder than he had intended, making a beeline for Parker.

"Daddy!" Parker looked up and saw his father rushing toward him he off Angela's hands, reaching for his dad.

When Booth scooped up his son he could see that the boy had been sick, but hugged him close anyway, knowing a large dry cleaning bill was in his future and not caring one iota.

"Temperance! What happened? What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going to watch a movie at the apartment." He cradled Parker, who was now hiccupping, to his shoulder and tried to soothe him as best he could.

"We were but…" She tried to explain as she approached.

Booth looked past her, at the platform. Techs rushing up and down the steps, alarms, lights blinking on and off. Zach and Hodgins and beyond them, the remains of Kyle Duncan.

His eyes widened when he put two and two together.

"Temperance, was Parker on the platform?" He asked, his voice dropping dangerously low, a cross between anger and horror on his face.

Brennan looked briefly at Parker, who was clutching his father with all his strength, his face pressed hard into Booth's shoulder. "Yes. But it was an accident, he was with Hodgins and…"

Booth shook his head, gritting his teeth, "I don't want to hear it," and the he turned and stalked away.

Brennan watched him until he disappeared behind the men's bathroom doors. She took a deep breath and glanced around the lab. The noise and chaos had died down, but it would take at least half an hour to reset the system. Normally this would have upset and annoyed her to no end. But in that moment all she cared about was Parker and Booth, and knowing that she'd screwed up so badly made her feel worse than any biomatter contamination ever could have.

"Sweetie are you-" Angela started to lay a hand on Brennan's shoulder but she shrugged it off.

"I'll be in my office."

And that's where she went, immediately shutting and locking the door.

Several minutes later Booth emerged from the bathroom carrying Parker and started for the exit.

"Booth!" Angela spotted him before he got too far, "Booth wait, please."

"Angela I don't want to talk about it." He said, not slowing his stride.

"Please Booth don't do this." She reached out to touch his arm and stopped him just short of the doors.

"Angela…"

She interrupted, seeing that he was still agitated. "I understand you're upset-"

"Damn right I-"

"And rightly so," She continued quickly, not wanting to give him a chance to protest, "but she locked herself in her office and hasn't come out."

"If she wants to sulk then that's her business I just need to get Parker home."

"Booth please." She took a deep breath and glanced once again back at Brennan's closed office door. Booth flickered his gaze in that direction but quickly turned away.

"Look, she screwed up, alright? She knows that, and she's sorry. Please don't leave with things like this Booth, this could break you." Catching his attention she made sure to lock with his eyes so he understood the gravity of their current situation, "You have to talk with her Booth. Don't leave it like this."

Booth stood silently for several minutes, shifting Parker in his arms. He looked up at Angela's pleading face proffering one last excuse.

"What am I supposed to do with Parker?"

"I'll take him," she answered quickly.

He sighed, then turned his toward his son, who'd been resting his head against his Booth's shoulder and had begun to doze off. "Alright bud, you want to stay with Ange for a few minutes? I'll be right back, I've just got to talk with Bones."

Though reluctant at first, after a bit of coaxing, Parker finally released his father's neck and took hold of Angela's hand as she led him to her office.

"And Angela-"

"I won't let him out of my sight, I promise."

Booth stood outside Brennan's office door for several moments before knocking, instead staring a hole in the tile floor below him. He was still angry, he couldn't deny that. And trying to 'talk' about anything with his girlfriend when either of them was angry was never a good idea. But he also knew it was possible that Angela was right. Brennan was insecure about spending time with Parker, and while he always tried to encourage her, this whole ordeal hadn't done much to put _either_ of them at ease.

He knocked softly and waited, one hand on his hip near his badge, the other massaging his brow slowly.

"Bones, it's me." He said, when there was no answer.

After a few moments he heard the click of the lock being disengaged but the door didn't open. When he entered her office she was standing with her back to him, seemingly perusing her plethora of forensics books.

He stepped inside and watched her for a moment. At first glance she seemed completely disinterested in his presence. But he was inclined to look a little closer than the average person and he could see that her shoulders and spine were rigid and that she wasn't actually perusing the books, but staring at one title and probably not really reading it at all.

"How's Parker?"

He tilted his head at the tightness in her voice. "He's with Angela. Probably sleeping by now, he was a little worn out."

She nodded and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, still facing away from him.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, trying to speak in a tone that was a little more gentle than what he felt.

She looked skyward and shrugged helplessly. "We were at home, watching a movie. I'd gone to the kitchen to-"

"Can you at least look at me please?"

She froze and after a moment, turned slowly to face him, studiously avoiding looking at his face.

"I'd gone to the kitchen to write and then I heard a loud crash and I was worried he'd hurt himself but when I got to him he was fine but he'd dropped my Ethiopian tribal mask and shattered it." She paused and sniffed, giving Booth the first indication of why she wouldn't look him in the eye. She'd been crying. "I got upset and he started crying and he wouldn't stop and the only thing that would calm him down was the idea of coming to the lab."

His anger began to quickly melt away and he dropped his arms, slowly moving toward her. When he was inches away he reached up with one hand and tilted her head.

"I'm sorry he broke your mask." He said quietly, drawing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a few fresh tears. "And I forgive you."

She searched his eyes for several moments, and when she found truth she let a small smile slip across her lips.

"But I need some time with him, okay? I need to talk to him, do some damage control."

Her eyes and her smile dropped. When he saw this he let his forehead rest against hers and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

"Why don't you…go out for drinks with Angela or something?"

She nodded dejectedly and Booth used his finger to tilt her face up to his once more and kissed her softly. "You're still my favorite girl. And I love you. Just give me some time, okay?"

She nodded and smiled for his benefit, kissing him one more time before he left.

Angela came in soon after and tentatively knocked on the door. Brennan looked up from where she was staring at her computer, her chapter and deadline long forgotten.

"Hey, how are you?"

"I'm fine." She shrugged and sat leaned back, "Booth said to give him some time alone with Parker, so I'm just trying to finish up on this chapter." That was what she was _trying_ to do, but since Booth and Parker had left, she'd been mostly unsuccessful.

"Why don't you just get out of here, huh? You work too much."

Brennan's eyes flew up to Angela's, remembering Booth had made a similar remark that morning.

"I do not." She replied a bit too defensively.

Angela raised her eyebrows at the sharp tone. "Sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to offend."

Brennan closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. "No, it's not your fault Ange. I guess I just…this whole thing with Parker, it's got me a little…"

"On edge?"

"Yeah. It's just that…Parker - and in a way, all kids - they're so important to Booth. And over and over today I did everything wrong."

Angela waited several seconds before responding, and then did so in as gentle a tone as she could. "You're right. They are important. But you know what else is important to Booth?"

Brennan looked up. "What?"

"You." Angela waited, hoping to see the light bulb of hope flicker on over her friend's head, and was more than a little concerned when she didn't right away, "Listen, I'm staying at Jack's tonight. That means I'll have practically a whole mansion to myself. I'll be lonely without you. Come over, you can tell me more about your college experimentation."

This got a bit of a smile from Brennan but she shook her head. "Thanks Ange, but I think I'll just stay here for a while."

"You're sure?"

Brennan nodded and proffered as much of a smile as she could and Angela shrugged.

"Okay. If you need me you know where I'll be."

"Thanks."

A half an hour later most of the people from the lab had gone. There were still a few other doctors and techs rummaging around, preferring the tranquility of night rather than the commotion of day to get their work done, but for the most part the place was deserted. Brennan spent another fifteen minutes trying to write something, all with no success.

Finally, in a little bit worse of a mood than she had been in before, she shut down her computer, grabbed her purse and headed for the parking lot. The 'get a drink part' of Booth's suggestion was beginning to look very appealing.

_TBC_


End file.
